


Love Will Out

by swottypotter (miraxb)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming Out, Declarations Of Love, Drinking Games, First War with Voldemort, Fluff, Lots of alcohol, M/M, Magic, lots of love, lots of magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26803903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraxb/pseuds/swottypotter
Summary: There's more to war than doom and gloom. This is a story about the joy that finds its way in through the cracks.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 56





	Love Will Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WanderingBandurria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingBandurria/gifts).



> A very, very, very happy birthday to my gorgeous V <3

A common misconception about wartime is that it is unceasingly dreary. Gloomy and doomy with misery saturating every second of every minute of every hour of every day. But in truth, while war is hardly pleasant, life will out and joy will find a way. 

Particularly when the foot soldiers are nineteen, best friends, and in possession of a certain aptitude for mischief. 

It’s difficult to say how the official weekly Order of the Phoenix game nights began. Ask James Potter and he will insist that they were his brainchild. Lily Evans will then quickly chime in, reminding her fiance that in fact,  _ she _ came up with the idea, along with her friend Alice. If Sirius Black is within hearing range, he will then pounce and point out that while Alice and Lily had turned the thing into an official tradition, it was  _ he _ who had hosted the very first one and thus he who deserved the lion’s share of the credit. 

In truth, they were all right and they were all wrong. Each played his or her own part in inaugurating the game nights, but it was Remus John Lupin who brought the games themselves. And no one could contest that that was the bit that mattered most. 

Everyone’s favourite game was ‘Merlin’. Remus had learned it from his father, who had learned it from his father, who, if family lore was to be believed, had learned it from his great aunt Sally. 

The rules were fairly simple. All the players gathered in a circle. A select person—the ‘Merlin’—would cast a simple spell, usually a childish charm. Something to produce ice crystals or blue sparks or the scent of spring. Then, everyone took a shot. It would then become the turn of whoever sat to their left in the circle. They’d have to say an incantation that ended with the same letter as the preceding spell began with. If someone took longer than five seconds to produce their spell, everyone in the circle shouted “MERLIN!” and took  _ two  _ shots of firewhiskey. The person who had faltered then became the new ‘Merlin’. When someone had failed three times, they were disqualified, and the game ended when only one person was left standing or else everyone was too drunk to continue. Whichever came first. 

It was a game that started out easy, quickly became impossible, and always rewarded its players with hangovers and the instinct to reach for spells they hadn’t considered for years. Essentially, it was the perfect match for those brave and unruly souls who comprised the Order of the Phoenix.

It was a Friday evening in mid-October and the under twenty-fives of the Order were gather at James and Lily’s apartment. It had been a hard week, with many near losses and an excess of sleep deprivation, and every single one of them was ready to drown their fear and exhaustion in laughter and alcohol. 

Sirius and Remus and Peter arrived early, courtesy of their status as Marauders and their total lack of respect for social norms. 

“Hulloooooo,” Peter called out, a greeting and a warning both for the couple happily ensconced in the kitchen. 

“Hi,” came Lily’s breathless voice as she preceded James through the kitchen door. Her red hair was a mess of tangles but her black eyeliner was as crisp and intact as ever. 

“Hullo,” said James, quick on her heels and rather ineffectually smoothing down his own wild locks. “How’re you lot, then?”

“Fine,” said Sirius.

“Good,” said Remus.

“Great,” said Peter.

“Fantastic,” said James, as he beckoned for his friends to follow him back into the kitchen, where a dark cloud of smoke was rapidly growing. “Though I think I may’ve messed up mum’s recipe for saag paneer.”

Peter, who had never needed more than the merest suggestion of an invitation, followed the disheveled couple back through the swinging kitchen door. Remus and Sirius, who had yet to finish the argument they’d begun that morning, stalled. 

“I’m just off to the bathroom, Prongs!” Sirius yelled.

“I forgot to send Dumbledore my latest report,” said Remus.

A moment later, they had disappeared into the bathroom together.

“I’m only saying,” Remus whispered, “that it might be too much too soon.”

“Too much of what?” Sirius replied mulishly, making no attempt to keep his own voice low.

Remus raised his eyebrows and refused to dignify him with a response. 

Sirius did the same.

“Fuck, Pads,” Remus said finally. “Are you trying to explode everything all at once? We’ve only just gotten used to the Mary thing.”

Mary McDonald had been killed in action three weeks previous. None of the Marauders had been too close with her, but according to James, Lily still wept for her each night. And Dumbledore, impenetrable bastard that he was, still sucked his lips in close whenever her name was mentioned. It seemed the battle had been gruesome.

“Are you trying to say this is the same thing?” Sirius asked. His voice had an edge to it that told Remus it had better not be.

“No,” said Remus. “Of course not. I only mean that it might feel like a lot so soon.”

After all, learning that your close friends were gay and in love with one another couldn’t be the smoothest thing in the world. Not in 1980. No matter how inevitable it had always been. No matter how accepting you were. 

At least, that was what Remus’ personal demons kept telling him.

“Fuck that,” Sirius replied, quieting the demons as he had done countless times before. Remus, uncertain and cautious as he generally was, still couldn’t help but agree. The anxiety was there, but larger than that was the impulse to be free and clear and honest. 

Besides, Sirius was so bloody hot when he was certain like this. 

“Alright,” Remus replied. “Tonight, then.”

Sirius beamed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They exited the bathroom and joined their friends in the kitchen. Alice and Frank had arrived, as had Kingsley and Marlene and Molly Weasley.

“Bit old, aren’t you?” Sirius teased Molly. She had only seven years on them, but her multitude of children made it feel as if she belonged to another generation entirely.

“I fancied a night off,” Molly replied, smiling. “Arthur will be alright.” They all laughed: with twin toddlers like Fred and George, the desire for some time off was inevitable. They all pitied Arthur.

“Let’s begin, then,” Lily said. She had a bottle of firewhiskey in one hand, a wand in her other, and a glint in her eye that frightened nearly everyone present. Amongst contemporary charmers, Lily Evans was one of the most undeniably formidable practitioners.

Alice was the first ‘Merlin’. 

“Aguamenti,” she cried out, directing her stream of water neatly into the kitchen sink.

It was a common opening move, easy enough in its casting but difficult to follow. They all took a shot.

Peter, standing beside her and still slightly breathless from the whiskey, hesitated for a bare moment before he shouted, “Inflatus!” The curtains covering the windows nearest him inflated with air. Everyone burst into peals of laughter as they watched the gingham fabric transform into ludicrous, rectangular balloons.

Another shot for all of them and then came Marlene. “Scourgify!” she yelled, and the shaggy carpets were suddenly sudsy with soap. Another silent flick of her wand and the bubbles vanished, leaving behind a pleasant, powdery aroma and noticeably cleaner floors. 

After Marlene came Sirius. 

Everyone held their breaths. Lily may have been an impressive charmer, but Sirius was the one with the unbeatable memory. He could read about a spell once and perform it perfectly, years later, without any hesitation. If Lily brought the power to the game, Sirius brought the depth.

For an endless moment, the living room was still. Alice, their official timer, was counting quietly in her head. If she got to five, the round would be over, everyone would drink, and Sirius would be down a chance. Sirius had never once lost ‘Merlin’.

“Errr,” Sirius said. The room held its collective breath. “Yerbifors?”

He said it like a question. And maybe it was: ‘Yerbifors’ was not an incantation any of them had heard before. Several awkward moments passed.

Finally, someone spoke.

“Er,” said James, “Did you mean ‘herbifors’? Because that doesn’t start with a ‘y’, mate.” He appeared awkward in the telling, unused to contradicting his best friend and closest confidant.

“Oh!” Sirius replied, missing any scrap of disappointment and hurtling straight towards joy. That was even more unusual: if there was one thing Sirius Black hated, it was losing. “I guess you’re right!” He hurriedly downed two shots, barely pausing to grimace afterwards. “Well, hmm, I s’pose I’m ‘Merlin’, then!”

The room became still and wary. It was a game, and good humour in a loss wasn’t so unusual, but Sirius  _ never _ lost, and he certainly never used a hearty, cheerful voice while doing so. 

Everyone froze. Everyone besides Remus, that is.  _ He _ was torn between melting through the floorboards and running across the circle to Sirius in order to kiss him silly. 

Sirius was licking his lips, preparing to cast his incantation. “Amorienses!” he shouted out. A beam of clear silver sparks shot from the tip of his wand, ricocheted itself around the circle, and connected with Remus’ chest. 

The young members of the Order of the Phoenix stilled their every muscle. The power Sirius had just invoked was ancient and rare: the confirmation and promise of a love deep and pure and inviolable. They were frozen half in suspense for Remus’ reaction but mostly in an unwillingness to disturb the sacred air of the moment.

Remus was beaming, enthralled by the light he saw in Sirius’ eyes and the golden sparks that were still settling around him. He took a halting step forwards, ignorant of the expectant friends around them, his attention only for his beloved in front of him. 

“You mean that, huh?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“I do,” Sirius said, quiet and grave. “Do you?”

For another endless moment, Remus only watched him, eyes shining and lips slightly parted. Then, he took a deep breath in and said with confidence, “Amorienses!” 

The silver sparks, still hanging in the air, turned to gold and circled their way around Remus’ head, ruffling his hair like a breeze and finding their way back to Sirius. 

“Really?” Sirius asked, his voice choked.

“Really,” Remus confirmed.

There was a final long breath of stillness, and then the two men surged towards each other, each desperate for the kiss that would seal the spell. 

A shower of blue and green and purple filled the air around them, and then their friends were running forwards too, embracing them and shouting out their support.

“Ruddy finally!” Peter yelled.

“Thank goodness,” Lily echoed. 

“How long has this been going on, then?” James asked.

“James!” Molly called out, laughing and patting Sirius’ cheek whilst kissing Remus’. “I thought you were meant to be intelligent!”

The evening ended in laughter and hugs. The game was forgotten but the firewhiskey continued to flow with abandon: everyone agreed the occasion was well worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/miraxb)!


End file.
